


The Potter Luck

by Enchantedtalisman



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Potter Family, Powerful Harry Potter, Powerful Hermione Granger, Powerful Ron Weasley, Time Travel, self indulgent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 19:35:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12175278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchantedtalisman/pseuds/Enchantedtalisman
Summary: Hermione had been seeking the Philosopher stone for over ten years; the results are a bit surprising for all three of them honestly. But Harry wouldn't change the circumstances; for once the Potter Luck isn't so bad.





	The Potter Luck

**Author's Note:**

> I HAVE HAD THIS STORY IN MY FOLDERS FOR AT LEAST A YEAR.
> 
> I wanted to post it the instant I stopped working on it the first time but it still felt incomplete (honestly it still feels a little incomplete now but I'm happy where I left it).
> 
> This is honestly self-indulgent, and mostly to fill the tropes that I don't find a lot of because it seems to have petered out.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy. I'm pretty stocked about it and I love it so, you know, I'm happy.

Graduation never came but Harry didn't mind.

Hermione, Ron, and Harry, they had left as soon as Voldemort's body had burned in the Great Hall (Odd that the last battle was there, but they took the victory and left).

The year of fighting Death Eaters left and right, and keeping one step ahead of Voldemort’s Ministry had left them weary but close knit like no other challenge had.

Most of the fights had left various parts of Magical Britain riddled with death and destruction.

They still bickered, mostly the little things;

“ _Harry honestly the tea's too cold_.” _Hermione grimaced and swished her wand to banish the tea._

“ _Hermione it's four in the morning why are you taking a shower.” Ron groaned_ _into Harry’s pillow._

 _“Ron I swear if I find another chess piece on the ground.” Harry held his aching foot, damn chest pieces had_ swords _._

But they were stronger together.

Harry wasn't sure if any of them would ever want to separate or marry or...anything really.

The first thing they did was disappear into Potter Manor, clean themselves up, found the master bedroom and Harry took the middle, Hermione took the right side and Ron took the left...and just _slept_.

Slept for hours and hours.

Until one of them finally woke up and woke the others.

 

Harry spent a lot of time in his books.

It was highly ironic to him, because he was turning into Hermione, or perhaps he had already. Five years and none of the trio had left the Potter Manor for much, sometimes when they needed new books, or supplies or something that was too volatile to be delivered (apparently grocers had plenty of delivery services and though it meant letting one inquisitive person into the wards, they were all fatigued from reporters that _still_ wanted interviews, they used the delivery services).

Even Ron spent most of his time reading the latest Defense or Transfiguration book or paper that came out.

Hermione, well, Hermione spent the majority of the time inside the rather extensive potions lab in the basement.

Of course Ron and Harry had seen them; there had been plenty of time in the past five years to learn how to properly use potions and make them now that there wasn't a horrendous teacher near them. But the things she was planning were a bit of a mystery.

Harry _knew_ she had several of Nicholas Flamel's books covering her worktable, and it had been about five years since she allowed anyone to catch more than a glimpse, but as long as she wasn't seeking immortality through the blood of innocents he left her too it.

Harry had his own work, publishing his first papers in Healing and Warding (under a pseudo name just like Ron for his Defense papers, and Hermione in her Alchemy papers). Updating the wards to the Manor house, while both Hermione and Harry were excellent at charms neither trusted the Fidelius spell, it was too constrictive and while Ron's family never ventured to visit after the third year, they didn't want _total_ isolation.

So without reason to leave, nor relations that ventured to the Potter Manor, the trio became even closer and rarely did they get a call from the Weasleys or the few Order Members that remained (Dumbledore had tried for a time to engage them into the world but if anything they seemed like partly attempts and he seemed almost _resigned_ that the trio were hermits).

 

 

Years passed, and Harry was sure if it wasn't for the biweekly duels that the trio orchestrated inside the Manor's gardens that they would have become rusty and decrepit with just how quiet and...almost mundane their life had become.

Of course there were the relatively common explosions;

Hermione finding a new component that did _not_ work to create a philosopher’s stone (which was at least a weekly moment of fire and smoke and checking for damages before cleaning).

Harry trying a new aspect of a ward or new healing spell (the latter was always more life threatening and it was probably that reason alone that Hermione and Ron had become so proficient at healing magic of their own and kept track of Harry's new spells). Wards were tricky bits of magic and even at thirty years of age Harry still had moments where the wards he was tinkering with would disagree and rock the Manor with it's explosion.

Ron on the other hand perhaps had the tamest accidents, most were curses or spells gone awry, the time he had tried to improve on Animagus' abilities and focused on learning _two_ forms instead of the one had left Harry and Hermione in a state until they were able to release him from a magically induced coma and the damage had been successfully repaired.

Then there were the subjects that intersected for all of them, Charms, Potions, Herbology, Magical creatures and familiarity with the Dark Arts; Harry's prerogative to create as many counters and healing spells to the darkest curses known to wixen kind had caused the others to join him in his Dark Arts studies.

The last of their interests, rituals, had been a slow process. A variety of old rituals were lost claimed by time. Others were considered worthless like the various magical power-rituals that many wixen from the eighteenth century onward had stated gave very little increase to magical strength.

 

 

Harry woke to delighted clapping and someone calling, _“Harry, Ron wake up, wake up wake up!”_ He blinked until the blurry colors clarified into Hermione standing above their bed.

Ron groaned and raised his head to look at Hermione before falling back onto Harry's shoulder.

“What do you need 'Mione?” Harry ruffled Ron's hair before getting up, he missed the warmth of Ron already but if Mione was excited well, she hadn't been excited since she figured out the eighth ingredient for the stone and that had been at least two years ago the day after her thirty eighth birthday.

“I figured out the last component to the Philospher's Stone!” Hermione snapped her fingers and Ron flew off the bed and landed on the ground with a light _thump_. From the sound of it she had at least had the curtsey to place a cushioning charm on him so his fall wasn’t painful.

Harry raised his brows and climbed off the bed, waving his hand so a nice heating charm warmed the floor under his toes. “Well, let's see it, is it like the fifth? A mixture of willingly given unicorn and dragon's blood? Do you remember how much work it took for that herd of unicorns to give us that blood?”

The trio left their bedroom and Hermione took them down to the basement that had it's own set of wards. (They had all agreed after the second time Harry had tried to change the wards and they had lost half their potions supplies due to a... _minor_ malfunction, that it was best to keep the basement wards on the most stable “version” they had)

Hermione wand fell out of her robe sleeve and she tapped the door and it opened quietly. “We really do need to key in our magical signature to the basement wards, I don't remember the last time I used my wand.”

Harry snorted, “The last time I offered you almost bit my head off.”

“And you bloody broke the kitchen sink and the dining room table in the spat you had.” Ron scowled, rubbing at his face, “Why couldn't you wait for two more hours, do you know how long I was up writing an article about the side effects of the pureblood ritual that some families use on adopted half-bloods and muggleborns?”

Hermione sighed and glanced back at them, a fond smile on her face, “Now if only you were like this when we were in Hogwarts.”

Harry chuckled and Hermione immediately started laughing as well.

Ron scuffed and waved his hand, sending two stinging hexes at both of them, “I hate you both. Now come on show us this Philosopher’s Stone of yours, you spent bloody two decades on it, it better be worth something.”

Unlike the rest of the house that had stacks of books and half said rooms had turned into study areas filled with shelves (that the Potter fortune was thankfully hefty enough to handle), the basement was very neat and organized not a single mote of dust and only the third table held anything at all.

It was a rather small cauldron considering what it was supposed to contain, Harry could barely detect a stasis charm on it; one of the more advanced stasis charms that while not interfering with any known potions ingredients or brewing process held a direct link to the casters magical core; a constant drain that most students and even full grown adults couldn't handle for more than a few days.

“How long has that stasis charm been on?” Harry asked already casting diagnostic charms on Hermione, everything looked fine, her core was barely empty maybe enough to indicate a rough morning of training.

“About a week while I studied the rituals for the last ingredient. Thankfully the mixture itself has very long simmering points, where it can take months before the next ingredient is needed. But that's not important right now. I figured it out.” Hermione grinned and lifted a small book that was next to the cauldron. “I've been studying all the notes I could find, and Nicholas Flamel understandably had very few of those, but what I found curious is he never once mentions how much magic each ingredient possesses.” She opened the book and flipped through it. “Every single ingredient that I pieced together never mentions the magical power or a particular season to harvest, and as most Newt level potion students learn magical potency is very important. Like how moonlight can influence the wolfsbane potion and that's why it's best to make it on a Dark Moon when there is no moonlight at night.” She placed the book down in front of them.

Harry scanned the highlighted bits, each ingredient looked powerful on it's own; Fairy blood and quite a bit of it (considering the only known fairies for the last two centuries were small and rather weak compared to their ancestors), Centaur head-hair, Dragon's blood, Unicorns blood, Sphynx feathers, Basilisk eyes (which had been a very trying and expensive endeavor) and several other ingredients. “There's no times or seasons listed, no instructions on how to make it.”

Ron grimaced, “Did you have to make it on your own? I mean I know your a genius 'Mione but I don't think it'll be a Philospher's Stone if you don't know if the Centaur Hair is supposed to be cut into small pieces or thrown in whole.”

A breeze blows the pages of the book to another section and Hermione drops her hand, “ _Exactly_ I wouldn't have any chance of figuring it out for several more decades if we were lucky.” She points at the book, “What actually sets the Stone apart from other potions is that the ingredients aren't used at optimized efficiency they're only meant to stabilize what we're going to put into it.”

Harry glanced down at the new pages and grimaced;

 _Of course the most powerful and most important ingredient in a Philospher Stone is not the blood (which there is much of) or hair or even the Willow-heart bark with it's mystical healing properties, but the amount of magical power the wizard or witch places into the potion. Naturally a normal wizard or witch's power would not be enough without power increasing rituals such as the_ Champions _ritual, the_ Defenders _ritual_ , _and the less used_ Sacrifice _ritual_ ; _fair warning to those who create the stone once the draining of magic step is created there is no escape until the stone is formed or death has reached the Wi_ _xen_ _._

“So, I'm guessing you want us to use these rituals and join our magic?” Ron asked, snapping his fingers together.

Various loud _thump_ and _bang_ noises echoed throughout the house before three books and several ritual knives and a chalk set floated through the door.

Hermione smiled, “No objections then if you already grabbed your supplies.”

Ron scuffed, and a pointed finger opened the first book and flipped to a page, “Both the Champion and Defender rituals are known for not causing any substantial magical power increase.”

Harry took the book from the air and ran through it, skimming most of it. He was glad that halfway through their studies they had found not only an eye-healing potion (would have been useful during the war) but a comprehension potion so their ability to absorb texts was far above the average human.

“But all of the people who stated the rituals weren't working hadn't ever stepped out into real danger, like Helga Bonstire, read anything about them and you realize that not a single time after Hogwarts did Helga leave their house or fight a duel or...anything! Look at this one, Charlus Malfoy never stepped out from his Manor, but if you look up his son who joined Grindelwald and then accomplished the rituals after several major battles between Grindelwald and Dumbledore there was a large increase in his power.”

Hermione takes one of the knives and taps the flat side against her fingers and glances at both of them. “We don't have to do this of course but it's two rituals, three if you count the sacrifice ritual.”

The rituals shouldn't hurt, at least half a hundred magical folk had done them in the last century (all except the ones who fought against Voldemort or with Voldemort) had received pitying results. Harry already familiar with Champion and Defenders rituals skimmed the Sacrificial ritual. “This says we need to have sacrificed something dearly.”

Hermione crossed her arms. “If seven years of our life saving the Wixen World from a demented Dark Lord because no one would get off their lily white ass to help us I don't know what is!”

Ron laughed, “Who would of known you'd get a mouth on you, 'Mione.” He shook his head, “I don't think it could hurt worse case scenario we die.”

“Always the optimist Ron.” Harry said, closing his book. “Alright let's get started.”

Hermione grinned at both of them. “Good.” She grabbed the box of chalk and then paused. “We...could create a coven. It's old fashioned of course there hasn't been a proper coven in four centuries but...”

Unstated was the fact that covens were a heavy burden but not only increased magical power and the strength of any rituals or magic they worked together but also gave them bonds that were closer than family.

“Of course.” Ron said, clapping a hand on Hermione's shoulder. “Like I even talk to anyone other than you lot.”

Harry didn't bring up the fact that the last time they had called the Weasley family through the floo no one had answered. Instead he wrapped an arm around Ron's shoulders, “Of course.” He agreed.

 

 

Several hours of work later they had the Coven potion and ritual circle, on the furthest table away from the stone, and each bled on the ritual circle. A drop of blood from each member was placed into all of the potions.

The potions changed into a murky silver and the trio glanced at eachother before they placed a hand on the chalk circle; and chugged the potion.

Harry grimaced and tried not to spit it out, it tasted like piss.

Just as the last of the potion was swallowed the circle glowed bright silver.

“I will protect you as if you were my family.” Hermione started, magic encasing her form in silvery strands her own dark blue magic flowing from her and into the strands.

“And burn your enemy with the fire of my magic” The magic swirled around Ron and connected with his scarlet magic.

“I will seek you with all my woes.” Harry had no doubt that they gave him his line intentionally. His green magic spun around him and touched the silvery strands.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron gripped their hands tighter in the circle, the magic in the air was suffocating. Each of them spoke the last lines

“For if I betray you shall a hundred curses inflict upon me.

Until our dying breath we are bound.

Until our souls set free.

We will never stray from our magelight we bleed.”

Their magic pulled into the circle around their connected hands, grew brighter and brighter still until all Harry could see was blue, green, and red.

Their was a painful tugging sensation underneath his ribs, once, twice, and then a third time before the suffocating magic dispersed and they were left hands clasped and the feeling of eachother even when they slowly pulled their hands away.

“This is weird.” Ron said, rubbing at his hands.

For a moment it felt like Harry was rubbing his own hands. “Yeah.”

“Let's take a moment before we start the other rituals?” Hermione suggested, brushing her hair from her head only to realize that it wasn't her hair she was feeling but Harry's bangs on his head. “More than a few minutes perhaps.” She muttered.

 

 

It took them another week to get adjusted to the new feelings. Everytime Hermione touched her too hot tea Harry or Ron would hiss and pull their hands back. Even just walking upstairs would cause another of the trio to trip on thin air. Everytime they dueled left them feeling every curse and hex they threw at eachother.

Frustration left them snipping at eachother.

The feeling of that frustration and anger at eachother that echoed throughout the bond caused more of a friction and closeness then they’d had in thirty years of friendship.

Instead of sitting at different tables to study they would make sure that their elbows were touching at all times.

When normally it didn't matter if Hermione would stay in the basement to eat or Ron would eat in a dueling room with one of the enchanted dummies; they would all eat together every meal every day.

A week of bickering, apologizing, and adjusting to the bonds had refreshed and strengthened their friendship and improved their reactions to the echo effect of their bonds, but Hermione was starting to worry;

“I have plenty of magic, just as much as you two, but if I hold the stasis spell any longer even with the magical power rituals I may not have enough...” Hermione grimaced and then tapped her fingers on the door to the basement.

The one plus to all of this week was Harry had time to update the ward but it had been a slow process thanks to the precious contents downstairs.

Setting up the newest rituals only took a few hours. Technically it was ill advised to use multiple rituals consecutively but Ron and Harry were not about to risk Hermione's health.

They all took a drink of a concoction meant so their memories would be open and bright to Magic's 'eyes'.

Harry took a seat in his own circle, Griffon talons at each of the cardinal points to indicate strength and power, looking at the others to make sure they were alright before starting the _Champion_ incantation. It was long and talked of great deeds already done, and though Harry had survived he asked a boon from Magic itself.

The first filled them with power and Harry felt rejuvenated and could feel the stretch as his magical core adjusted to the influx of power. His core increased in a way that defied several studies that magical cores could not grow after a magical user's inheritance.

Magic brimmed to the top from each of them.

Harry could feel all of them bursting with power, even Hermione who had a constant tether to an ongoing spell was just as formidable; it didn't even appear as if she had spent the last two weeks holding a high level spell.

“Ready for the next one?” Ron asked panting and grinning.

“Let's do it.” Harry grinned back.

Adjustments had to be made to the circle, and several pieces of dragonscale were placed at the cardinal points (one of the strongest materials in the magical world). A potion to cleanse them of the first ritual's remnant magics and another to show their memories to magic again.

Defender was about protecting those who couldn't protect themselves, it was a bit surprising to see the Troll in first year flash before Harry's eyes; after all it was Ron and partly Harry's fault that Hermione was in danger, and then more and more flashed before his eyes until magic itself ran through them and boosted their powers even further still.

It left their heads ringing and Harry felt his magical core strain to the limit and grow even further. Bile rose at the edge of his throat and he wasn't the only one to curl in on themselves till the pain and pressure left them.

 

 

Once the trio could sit up without becoming dizzy or clenching their jaws in an attempt to stop from puking, they slowly adjusted the circles to create the proper base for the Sacrifice Ritual.

This time they sliced across skin to let blood flow across the circle; the chalk glowed silver-scarlet and filled the air with the scent of copper.

Harry fell back to the ground after taking the two potions and looked at the other two. He felt like hurling, but they were all determined to get through this. “Ready?”

“Ready.” Hermione and Ron chorused.

Harry started chanting and could hear the other two just a moment behind him.

 

 

Just as Hermione finished the last of her own incantation there was a rush of glimmering silver light.

Then Harry felt power brim to the surface, like nothing he had ever felt before; even on their inheritance at the age of eighteen ( at which point they received their fits from bloodlines and increase in magic) it was nothing like this.

The ground shook under them and for a moment all three turned to look at the cauldron that stood perfectly still; then silver strands wrapped tightly around each of them, magic brimming on their skin until they could barely see anything else.

Then darkness.

 

When Harry woke up it was too a darkness that felt like a very dim room, for a moment he couldn’t feel Hermione or Ron and _that_ caused him a surge of panic and to quickly cast location charms; they were near but in two different rooms, which made _no sense_.

No matter the fight they would _always_ come back to their bed together. But...they hadn’t been fighting.

Harry sat up and silently cast a weak lumos.

This was definitely the Potter Manor, this room looked familiar...It had Sirius’ belongings...or _it had_ for some reason it was all here sixteen year old Sirius’ clothes hung in the closet and several posters of rather provocative Wizards and Witches were on the walls.

“What the bloody hell?” Harry was _sure_ they had been in the basement...working on rituals.

A very powerful ritual.

For magic that would make a...stone, a stone that was... in his pocket?

Harry pulled out the philosopher stone and examined it, it looked blood red with a tinge to the surface shifting from feathers to the image of an eye to hair. It even _felt_ like the surface was a feather or eye or hair (which was beyond weird).

But more important was Hermione and Ron so he let his wand slip into his hands and cast an invisibility charm across him. Worse then disillusionment that felt like a yolk this felt like his whole being was being smothered in a slow pouring cream.

Once the feeling faded Harry left the room, carefully closing the door, and swept towards the room Hermione was in.

“Harry?” Hermione’s voice echoed through the room the instant Harry entered. “I’m tied to the bed and this is _very_ not funny.”

Harry frowned breaking his invisibility with a twist of magic, “How did you get tied up?” He quickly closed the door and checked the bed for any monitoring spells. There were several and even a few monitoring ones on him, though less restrictive then the ones on Hermione.

The magic felt a little familiar and it almost blended with his own and perhaps that was why he hadn’t noticed the monitoring spells. With a few flicks of his wand he tugged and molded the charms to cling to the desk and bed.

A simple cutting spell frayed through the magic and rope holding Hermione to the bed.

“Thank you.” Hermione said, standing and rotating her wrists and ankles with a grimace. “I’m getting too old to be tied up.” She muttered and ignored Harry’s chuckle.

Harry nodded to the room beside Hermione’s and with another casting of the invisibility spell they were past the door and down the hall to Ron’s room.

The room is familiar enough that Harry realizes it was his mothers, or well had been, except it looks like a regular guest bedroom and he sees no sign of anything that could be his mothers (the items that he had barely touched for a decade; mostly he would sit at the edge of the bed and look and try not to tear up).

Ron sat tied to a chair instead of the bed, and he looked mulish and glared at the wall next to the door. There wasn’t any sign of harm on his person, thankfully but the look made Harry a little worried.

Hermione and Harry’s spells weaved together almost _too_ easily and Harry was glad whatever had happened to them hadn’t broken their coven bond.

With syncing swishes and flicks the listening charms were broken and any monitoring charms were sent to the chair rather than Ron. Silencing spells across the walls and then they twisted their magic and the invisibility spell broke again.

“Guys.” Ron looked so relieved and he strained against the bindings, “Can you get me out of here? I could barely feel you through the coven bond.”

“That shouldn’t happen unless there’s been a huge strain on the bond.” Hermione muttered, walking to Ron’s side and running a finger across the rope; it frayed and broke under her finger until every rope and magic holding Ron to the chair was gone.

Immediately Ron grabbed Hermione into a tight hug and beckoned Harry.

Harry joined the hug and kissed the top of their heads, “Just that Potter luck, I think.” He murmured to them and they both laughed into his chest.

Of course that’s when two people appeared to blend out of the walls and all three of them went side to side holding their wands to the peoples faces.

“Ron?” Harry asked with a frown.

Ron was no slouch with his magical senses and unless they had cast a memory charm…

Harry’s grip on his wand tightened and magical light appeared at the tip.

“Relax, relax we’re Potters. Well, the Head Potter family really.” The man said, and now that Harry was fully focusing on him...he looked eerily like Harry.

There was the soft green eyes, though a shade or two lighter than Harry’s, and he even wore glasses like Harry once did.

“What do you mean Head Potter?” Ron asked, his own wand still pointed at the Lady...Potter?

“He does look...” Hermione trailed off and her eyes sharpened. “What’s your names?”

The man looked amused and the woman beside him huffed, “I’m pretty sure _we_ should be asking you that question. But I am Charles Potter, and this is my wife Dorea Potter-nee-Black.”

Everything felt far too slow and Harry felt an echo of his own emotions and Hermione and Ron’s worry through the bond. It made all three of them tighten their grip against their wands.

“Harry, relax, it’s okay. This could just be an illusion mate.” Ron offered, knocking his shoulder against Harry’s.

“Or just a mishap, perhaps part of the _you know what_.” Hermione whispered pressing her side closer to Harry.

Soothing though it was Harry could feel the two people—his _grandparents_ magic and it felt all too real.

If anything it paled in comparison to any one persons magic that wasn’t family and he suddenly could understand why purebloods put so much stock on family magic—it could be addictive this closeness.

“I’m Harry Potter, this is Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley my two best--”

“Only.” Ron interjected with a smirk.

Harry rolled his eyes, “my two prat friends.” He finished and looked them over again. “I think...” He trailed off everything clicking into place and frowned, there was no way to tell the other two without making the man—his grandparents suspicious.

“We thought so.” Charles said smugly, grinning at his wife, “You had to be part of the main household to enter this estate or it won’t let you, so you must be part of my...father’s affairs.” He grimaced, “or perhaps great grandfather’s, he did have a rather open relationship with his husband.”

This was the most information Harry had ever received about his family in intimate detail and all he could do was stare and lean against Hermione.

Hermione eyes had widened and she looked at Harry an echo of sadness through the bond.

“I’m assuming of course these are your husband and wife.” Charles continued, glancing at Ron and Hermione. “Though I don’t know why you haven’t given them the Potter name, I assure you if it’s fear of retribution you shouldn’t. We do need more main-line Potters after two wars in a row.” His face grew weary and Dorea pressed a hand against his arm.

Dorea took over, “We weren’t quite sure, so we apologize for the mistreatment but until you woke up and actively used magic we couldn’t _truly_ verify the family magic or your true heritage. The wards let you in but most spells that aren’t...” She grimaced, “Invasive, have to wait for someone to cast magic to detect more details.”

Ron started chuckling loudly and nudged Harry’s side jolting him from his shock, “They think we’re your husband and wife. ‘Mione could you imagine being married to this prat?”

Harry groaned and covered his face.

Hermione rolled her eyes, seeming to easily catch on to what Ron was doing, and Harry knew she knew because she was smarter than both of them, “What’s wrong with Harry? I’m sure sleeping in his lap is only a comfort a partner could take pleasure in.” She said pointedly.

Ron stammered and flushed and glared at the both of them, “You are both bloody awful, you know that?”

Hermione smirked and tugged on her robes.

Harry kept his face covered because perhaps this was a bad dream. Like the last time Ron and Hermione had decided they wanted to have sex with him. At least _then_ all three of them had been too high on endorphins and laughter and companionship to feel too embarrassed.

“Well, the magic says your bonded.” Charles continued, and when Harry peeked from his fingers the man was grinning at them with a fond look in his eyes.

Dorea looked just as fond, “It’s truly nice to see such a healthy relationship. We haven’t had a Potter or Black have two partners in quite some time, perhaps three generations.” She nodded towards the door, “Now how about we discuss how all three of you came here, not that we won’t accept you--”

“Unless you’re a Slytherin-ouf” Charles groaned holding his stomach.

Dorea rolled her eyes and pulled back her elbow, “I was a Slytherin, he thinks it’s funny but James dear actually believes him and it’s been a mess trying to make him unlearn that. _Charles_.”

Charles sighed, “I didn’t think the boy would take me so seriously--”

The two started walking out of the room and Harry followed instinctively because these were his _grandparents_ and he was seeing them interact for the first time. Not even their portraits had survived the War.

Quickly following, Hermione and Ron kept a hand on Harry’s arms which was soothing and helped him not freak out.

“He worships the ground you walk on ever since he looked into your eyes as a babe.” Dorea replied drily, leading the group down a grandiose staircase and into a rather large sitting room. She swept past the large sitting room and led them off into a smaller, quieter sitting room that looked like an actual family den with picture frames that were more fun then proper and prime.

Harry was sure he caught a picture of young James throwing paint at his father while his mother laughed in the background. His heart ached so fiercely that Hermione and Ron’s hands tightened and they pressed close until the feeling eased.

They were watching the trio again, sitting close together on one of the couches, and Harry felt a discomfit that ran through each of them separate and then mixed through the bonds.

All three of them had been isolated for so long even having his grandparents there, well it was rather uncomfortable to be examined.

“It’s like being around my mum and dad again.” Ron muttered so only Harry and Hermione could hear.

Hermione snorted, “You mean when there were more than two of you in the same house.” She raised her brows.

Ron flushed and shrugged, “Not my fault they had so many children.”

Dorea looked amused, “If you hadn’t mentioned multiple children I would think you were from Septimus Weasley’s line but he’s only had a son and daughter in the past forty years.”

“Now don’t be rude, it’s a shame that Septimus thinks that purebloods only need two children. If we didn’t have a war going on we would have at least five more.” Charles grinned.

“Two more, because those two are going to be born from a ritual and not through my womb, thank you but I didn’t enjoy the pain the first time.” Dorea said with a grimace. She glanced at Hermione, “If you want children I highly recommend the ritual, my mother thought it prudent I have a child the _natural_ way but I do not.”

Hermione flushed a bright red and coughed loudly, “Well we’re a little too yo--” She paused and then shook her head, “We don’t really want children.”

Charles nodded, “Quiet alright we have James and if he doesn’t well, all lines come and go, with how most purebloods interbreed a new Potter line would show up in a few generations.”

Dorea snorted, “You mean one, you and I are barely third cousins.”

Charles winced, “Can you pretend to not have heard that, my dear brother?” He looked at Harry and with a jolt Harry glanced at the other two.

Ron shrugged.

Hermione opened her mouth, closed it, and did this several times before sighing and shrugging as well.

Harry understood both, it wasn’t like they had time to fabricate a story, and they were hardly good at lying. Sure they might have been, but after twenty years of isolation they rather didn’t lie to eachother—it was rather hard too when one lived with someone every day and every night.

Of course Harry could try, but if Charles and Dorea were both smart enough to watch them while being invisible no doubt something would break the lie, either a drink they offered or a spell going unnoticed or some enchantment in the room.

Harry could only imagine a father and mother of James Potter would need some anti-lie charms around the household if only to handle the mischievous boy. “I...” He grimaced and squeezed his hands together, twisting them until his bones started to ache, “I’m actually not related to you, well, I mean...” He grimaced.

Silence stretched and it felt taut especially under the suddenly sharpened eyes of the two elder Potters.

“What Harry means is he’s your grandson.” Hermione finally said.

“Yes. I’m...that.” Harry nodded exhaling harshly.

Charles clamped his hands together, and grinned, expression easing, “I knew it.”

“You did not. You said he looked like James and _I_ said he had similar eyes to yours. Then you thought he was your brother.” Dorea said with a raised brow and she the sharpness eased back as if nothing bad had happened at all.

“You always ruin my fun.” Charles muttered before leaning forward and eyeing Harry, “it would explain why your magic feels so familial but not like my fathers. You have something else...new magic, does James fall in love with newblood? Wonderful, Potter family needs it.”

“Newblood, isn’t that a term used for muggleborns by India?” Ron glanced at Hermione and Harry, “Are the Potters not from England?”

“Mixed blood.” Charles said with a shrug, “Every once in a while the Potters from India and England have arranged marriages with the most distant branches, helps keep us on the same magical tree incase anything happens to one of us.”

Harry nodded and glanced at Dorea.

Dorea who was smiling at him with such happiness, “I can’t wait to meet baby Harry. You look practically like a mix between James and Charles’ father.”

Harry blushed and ducked his head, so pleased to finally have attention, _good_ and _positive_ attention. He also felt a surge of embarrassment he was forty but felt at this point like a three year old.

“Stop that. Stop beating yourself up, this is good not a bad thing, enjoy it.” Hermione whispered, and wrapped an arm around his waist. “Or I’ll start telling them all the embarrassing stories about you I can remember. Or about our school years.”

“You wouldn’t.” Harry hissed back.

“I would.” Hermione said with finality.

Ron snorted and nudged Harry, “She would mate you remember last time me and you were in the shower too long, she froze all the water in the house.”

“Sounds rather like a strong witch.” Charles interrupted smiling at them and then holding out his arms, “I deserve a hug by now, don’t I grandson?”

Harry froze, again feeling like a three year old and it was only Ron’s heavy shove that propelled him up and into his grandfather’s arms.

“You young man are a handsome boy--”

“I’m forty.”

Charles snorted, “I’m seventy and have at least another seventy years in me, your still practically a boy. I wouldn’t be surprised if I was one hundred by the time James had you.”

A moment later Dorea joined the hug and it was perhaps one of the best hugs Harry had had. Perhaps only Ron and Hermione’s hugs were better. And Sirius of course.

Finally, when Harry thought they’d hugged for far too long, and he was _forty_ and clinging to Charles, and there was no way of denying how tightly he held him, he let go and stood up.

Hermione with a flick of her fingers in a downward motion conjured a napkin for his eyes.

“Thanks ‘Mione.” Harry murmured rubbing at his eyes and then sitting down. When he looked back up both Charles and Dorea were frowning.

“We’re not around when you are born are we?” Dorea asked, but she didn’t wait for an answer. “Well, I’m glad I met the young man who is our grandson. That you have two bondmates who are so strong and comforting to you makes it slightly less painful to realize.”

“How the hell are they so smart?” Ron scowled.

“I can see the resemblance, remember how Harry constantly deconstructs the most complicated or vague dark spells as if it’s nothing to make a healing counter-spell?” Hermione muttered, looking Dorea and Charles over, “It’s good that Harry got to see you too. He deserves it.”

“‘Mione.” Harry sighed, but couldn’t help feel the fondness and love radiating through the bond from both of them.

They really only wanted him to have what he hadn’t had and he couldn’t blame them for slipping up but his grandparents were obviously intuitive and brilliant.

Thankfully though his grandparents just smiled at them, there were definitely tears in their eyes, and settled back down in the couches.

“Now how about some tea? And breakfast. We apologize again for tying you up, it was necessary, you understand?” Charles actually looked even more guilty then before, which made sense if before he thought of Harry as a distant brother rather than his grandson.

“We would have done the same, Harry’s got even worse wards then these,” Ron waved at the general house, “Before Harry messed with them I mean, one of them strips the poor sods naked and--”

“ _Ron_.” Harry groaned.

“Harry was really proud of that ward when the reporters started coming by.” Hermione continued over Harry’s protests. “Stripped them all in their underwear and sent them into Diagon Alley. Still not quite sure how he forcefully apparated them.”

“I already told you it wasn’t an apparated but temperamental portkey-magic added into the ward. It’s also why I removed it after it blew up the potions lab.”

Charlus and Dorea looked impressed.

Another surge of happiness and pleasure ran through Harry and he couldn’t help a shy smile. This was his family, maybe they could stay here for a bit longer. He glanced at Ron and Hermione hopefully.

Ron patted his back and nudged his shoulder, “Duh.”

“Of course.” Hermione said smiling.

Harry grinned and then looked at his grandparents carefully, “Would you mind if we stayed?”

Charlus grinned at him, “Of course! You are family. I would love for you to stay as long as you like.”

“We of course can do something to help contribute--” Hermione started.

“Nonesense, you _are_ family.” Dorea said and then smiled at the three, “Though what a surprise for James to meet his son before he’s even graduated from Hogwarts.”

Harry froze, “Oh no, no we--”

“Yes.” Hermione grinned with too much pleasure.

Ron nodded.

They were absolutely the worst, Harry decided, but he couldn’t help the excitement running through his veins and the confidence running through their coven bond; Hell, they had made a philosophers stone and survived several rituals and a coven bond; who said they couldn’t mess with time?

“Alright.” Harry said, “What should we do first?” He asked.

Hermione and Ron understood but his grandparents took it to mean they should have lunch.

Plotting could wait for later, Harry decided, after lunch.

When Dorea and Charlus left the room to start lunch Harry glanced at Hermione.

“We find a few muggle explosives and find Voldemort and I’m _sure_ he’ll be dealt with.” Hermione’s grin was practically feral, not that Harry could blame her.

“Definitely. Maybe you’re new anti-apparition ward.” Ron hummed, “Just incase.”

Charlus head appeared from around the door and looked at Harry, “I know that look. It’s the same one my grandfather had when he was plotting, please tell me you’re not leaving?”

Harry flushed and once again _family_ brimmed to the surface and he felt almost guilty for Ron and Hermione. Which they rectified immediately with a feeling that read _don’t be silly_ down the bond, “We’re you’re family and they are ours.” Hermione whispered fiercely.

“No, just planning a side trip, it can wait.” After all this was _lunch_ with his grandparents. Everything could wait honestly.

“Yeah, mate, we can nip in and handle it with a bang.” Ron laughed.

Hermione groaned.

Charlus’ eyebrows rose but he nodded and then beckoned them, “Come on then, grandson.”

Harry immediately stood up and went to Charlus’ side, ignoring the teasing laughter running through the bond.

Charlus wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulder, his eyes lit up with joy, “Grandson,” He said as if tasting the word, “That will never grow old. I’m so proud of you. I love you.” He kissed the side of Harry’s forehead.

Harry ducked his head and felt tears at the edge of his eyes, “You don’t,” He choked up, “You don’t know me.”

“You’re family, and my grandson. Of course I’d love you.” Charlus said with such certainty, and then gazed at Hermione and Ron, wrapping them awkwardly into the hug, “And of course my other grandchildren.”

Ron stammered.

Hermione flushed.

But both of them were pleased.

Harry could get used to this, “We love you too, Grandad.” He suddenly understood how that word would never get old.

Hermione nodded still flushed but smiling so hard it looked painful.

“Your--” A look from Charlus, “Our Grandad is amazing Harry.” Ron said, red tinting his freckled cheeks.

Charlus chuckled and led them to the dining room where Dorea set down plates and food with a swish of her wand.

“So tell me all about your life, Harry.” Dorea said kindly.

The feeling of unholy pleasure ran through the bond and Harry didn’t have to look to see Hermione and Ron open their mouths.

“Harry almost swallowed a snitch--”

“Did you know he learned the patronus in third year--”

Hermione and Ron glanced at eachother before simultaneously drawing a breath, “Did you know there was a basilisk under the school that Harry fought off by himself?”

Harry groaned and covered his face.

There was the sound of glass breaking and Charlus was holding the remaining portion of a glass cup.

Dorea was holding a leaking, and broken wine bottle.

“What?” They said, “Explain _everything_.”

Of course, Hermione and Ron did.

By the end of it, Dorea and Charlus both promised to find every protective charm imaginable and use it on all three of them.

At least Hermione and Ron shared in the blushing-stammering-joy at that announcement. And the coddling, apparently Potters were good at coddling their children.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, if you liked it please Kudos/Review <3


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